


Bring it back to me

by katintheivy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Fixing the plot issues, Fluff, I'm going to hurt everyone and then fix them, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29318490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katintheivy/pseuds/katintheivy
Summary: Bucky Barnes has always been in love with Steve Rogers, but it is not until he is strapped down to a table in a Hydra weapons facility that he is forced to come to terms with his feelings. And feelings just make everything way more complicated. Still, as long as there's someone who can bring him, maybe he's not lost.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. If you were here besides me, instead of in New York

**Author's Note:**

> Saw the trailer for "Falcon and the Winter Soldier" and got back into Marvel. So, this is going to be a rewrite to allow for Steve/Bucky. I will be mostly canon compliant, with some exceptions. More couples and characters to be added as I go.
> 
> I like my excessive commas and you can pry them from cold, dead fingers. Song recommendations for this chapter: "New York" by Snow Patrol and "New York" by Boxer Rebellion.

“Three.”

As Bucky lay dying, he kept remembering holding Sarah Rogers’ hand and promising that he would take care of Steve. He could not quite remember where Steve was, because at the end of her illness, he had been glued to her side, but Bucky supposed it was not important anymore. Maybe Steve had gone down to the pharmacist’s or maybe he was just in the kitchen cooking, even though he was horrible at cooking. Maybe he was just sitting outside on the fire escape as the sun set, because he had needed to get out of that room and asked Bucky to stay with her, just for a moment. Bucky could not remember, but it did not really matter. His head just kept drifting, unable to focus in on one thing. This had to be what it felt like to be dying.

“Two.”

He remembered holding Sarah’s hand, too cold in the summer’s heat. He had never sat with a dying person before, because he was 20 back then and had not seen a war. Now, he had seen so many die he could not keep track. He had counted the first week on the front, but he had given up after he reached 20 in a single day. He had held too many hands as the boys died, because they really were just boys. They were children, sent out to die, for a cause he knew had to be worth it. It could not be not worth it, because then he would not be able to keep going forward. Bucky was almost grateful that this had to be the end. He would not have to keep carrying all these bodies with him.

“Five.”

Sarah had immediately taken to Bucky. He was not sure why, but she had liked him immediately. And Bucky had liked Steve immediately. They got on like a house on fire and were utterly and completely inseparable. She was a quiet woman, but clearly loved her son. She had been strong for him for as long as she could, but death was not something you could keep waiting. She must have known. Bucky knew that she must have known. She had hid it from Steve as long as she could, until she was well and truly half-gone.

“Five.”

Bucky had thought she had been asleep on that summer day. He was not talking, just holding her icy hand, and looking out the tiny window at the setting sun. The sky was beautiful that night, hitting every color from bright orange to deep navy. He was thinking that Steve would like to paint that sky and maybe he had. Bucky could not remember now. It was too hard to think back when his head was so foggy. He had been running a fever in the cell, coughing up blood, when the guards had come to take him out. Probably to shoot him, but then the Nazi doctor (what was his name?) stopped the guards short.

“Seven.”

Zola. That was the doctor’s name. Zola had stopped the guards and examined Bucky for a moment. Bucky had barely been able to keep his head up. Zola had asked his name and his identification number and then told the guards to take Bucky upstairs. Bucky’s memory got hazy then, from a mixture of the fever and the pain. He wondered how aware of herself Sarah had been as she had been dying? Had she known that Steve sat with her as much as he could? Did she hear him singing those Gaelic lullabies that she had sung to him?

“Zero.”

Sarah had opened her brilliant blue eyes, still as vivid as Steve’s even as she lay on her death bed. Those eyes had drilled into Bucky’s face as she gripped his hand harder. Bucky had stared at her, unable to formulate words. He felt like he should call for Steve, go up and get him from wherever he was, because he deserved Sarah’s lucidity, not Bucky. But, Sarah had gripped him tight, looking right at him with a fierceness he had not known she still possessed. Her voice was hoarse, but her words were clear.

“Three.”

Sarah had not asked Bucky. She had told him, simply, plainly: you will take care of Steve. And Bucky had immediately nodded, promises tumbling out of his lips, because that much he could do. There was not much he could, but he could take care of Steve. There was something in her face that let Bucky know that she knew, somehow. The pain was unbearable. Even breathing hurt. Bucky wished that death would speed up. Zola had done things to him, medical things. He was not coughing up blood anymore, but he did not feel right. There was something in him, something that did not feel normal.

“Eight.”

Bucky wished he could have gotten to see Steve one last time. He should have told him, really told him. But, Bucky was afraid that he would lose Steve. Even though they had been each other’s first kiss, Bucky was afraid that Steve would not love him like that. Sarah must have seen what Steve had not, but she did not berate Bucky or cast him out of her house. She had asked him to keep Steve safe. How could he keep Steve safe from an ocean away? But, Steve had to be safer in New York than here at Bucky’s side. Bucky wondered if Steve had been getting his letters and if Steve had been writing back. Sarah had not said anything more after that, just listened to Bucky’s promises with a slight nod. She had faded out again. She had not lived much longer, maybe three days.

“Three—two—five—five—seven—”

“Bucky? Oh my god,” a familiar voice said.

If this was dying, it was taking a long time to happen. Bucky looked up into a familiar and yet unfamiliar face. The man yanked the straps off of him while Bucky continued to ponder how would someone know if they were dead.

“Bucky, it’s me. It’s Steve,” the man said and Bucky focused in now.

“Steve?” The man touching his chest felt real.

“It’s me,” Steve said, helping Bucky up.

“Steve…” Bucky shook his head a little, trying to find his feet. Steve felt real, but he looked different than before.

“I thought you were dead,” Steve replied, putting a hand to the side of his face for a moment.

Bucky said the first thing that came to his head. “I thought you were smaller.”

Steve seemed to be looking around the office, trying to map things out. Bucky could not take his eyes off of Steve. Was this some sort of trick? A dream? Steve started helping him out of the room, since Bucky’s limbs did not seem to want to work well.

“What happened to you?”

“I joined the Army.”

Bucky’s strength started to come back a little, if only out of pure stubbornness as they moved through the building. He could not just be leaning on Steve. They were in the middle of a Hydra base and he would not be much help in a fight. Steve would have to fight for both of them.

“Did it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Is this permanent?” Bucky kept looking over Steve’s now broad shoulders. He felt so lost.

“So far.” Steve looked back at him, looking like he wanted to help Bucky again, but Bucky had his pride.

The explosions shook the building. Bucky wished he knew the building layout better, but all of his energy was being spent on staying upright. He needed to get out of this building. He needed to keep Steve safe. His heart was pounding in his ears and he swore he could feel the poison coursing through his veins. The building was empty.

They came to a causeway, where there was the doctor and someone else, an officer. The officer and Steve exchanged words, but Bucky could barely focus on them. He propped himself up on the metal railings, staring at the man who had refused to let him die. Zola was met his gaze with an odd fascination. Bucky felt sick, the ground swaying under his feet as Zola stared, taking him in. 

However, when the officer pulled off his face, Bucky got a little distracted. “You don’t have one of those, do you?”

Humanity. What an odd concept. Where was the place for humanity in a war zone?

The building was coming down fast. After the officer and Zola ran, Bucky and Steve headed up the stairs, to the top catwalk. It was a narrow piece of metal than ran from the side they were on to the side they wanted to go to. Bucky tried not to look down, his old fear of heights coming back. Steve helped him over the railing and onto the narrow metal. His dog tags banged against his chest, mimicking the pounding of his heart as the flames rose. He jumped as the metal weakened and crumbled, making it to the other side. He propped himself against the railing again, looking across at Steve on the other side.

“Gotta be a rope or something!” Bucky cried as Steve shouted, “Just go! Get out of here!”

“No! Not without you!” Bucky could not contain the desperation in his voice. He could not fail Sarah. He could not leave Steve behind.

Then, to his utter amazement, Steve swore and bent the metal railing as if it was butter. He took a few steps back and started running to the edge before jumping.

They regrouped outside the remains of the Hydra base. Steve told them that they were in Austria, about 30 miles from the base in Italy.

“We can walk that,” Bucky said after a moment, looking over the map Steve had pulled out. He was having trouble orienting where they were. He was having trouble staying upright. His veins were burning and he still felt like vomiting, but he did not want to stay here. They were a few hours off of dawn yet, but the burning building cast plenty of light.

Dugan glanced at Bucky, meeting his gaze. “You think so, Barnes?”

Bucky frowned at Dugan, brows knitting together for a moment. “Gather supplies. I don’t think they need them anymore and then let’s get out of here.”

Bucky noticed the look Dugan shot Steve, but there was suddenly a bunch of movement as soldiers started gathering weapons and vehicles. Bucky picked up a rifle, resisting the urge to lie down right there. There was a gentle hand on his back and Bucky jumped a foot.

“Just me, Buck,” Steve said as he turned to look at him. “You all right? You look—”

“I’m good, Stevie,” Bucky replied. He put a hand on Steve’s (massive) bicep partly to reassure him, partly to keep himself from falling over, and partly because he wanted to touch him.

“Maybe you should get in one of those trucks,” Steve said, his hand slipping down from Bucky’s back to his hip to better steady him. He was not covering the way he felt very well, but Steve’s hand felt good, so he could not really complain.

“I’m by your side,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

Steve did not look like he necessarily believed him, but there were others calling for him now. He gave Bucky one last searching look before pulling away to go help. Bucky braced himself against a nearby tank, watching Steve from a distance.

He was glad Sarah was not around to see what he had dragged her son into. Bucky had thought Steve would be safe in New York, even if he was getting beat up in every alley in the Brooklyn and the Bronx without Bucky to come and save him. He had never thought Steve would make it into the army, let alone past enemy lines to come rescue him, because there was no other reason for Steve to be here except to save him.

Bucky could not help but think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. But Steve was already here in Europe, so if it was not Bucky he was saving, it would have been someone else. At least now Bucky could stay at Steve’s side and keep the idiot from getting himself killed.

Steve finished organizing everyone and went to Bucky again, seemingly waiting for someone else to take charge. Bucky could not stop his lips from quirking up into a smile. “Hey punk.”

“Yeah?”

“They’re waiting for you.”

Steve looked full on at Bucky for a moment, thinking that through. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. “I guess they are. What would I do without you, Buck?”

“You won’t have to find out,” Bucky replied, following Steve closely.

Steve pulled his compass out as they started into the woods. It was the same compass that Bucky had given him for his eighteenth birthday. Bucky had saved up for weeks for it, wanting to give him something truly special for that birthday. It had been the only non-art related gift Bucky had ever given him and so Bucky had thought Steve hated it. He was surprised to see that there was a photograph of himself tucked into the compass. It had to be his enlistment photo, since Bucky was in his uniform and his face looked more full and less hollow than now.

Steve seemed to notice Bucky looking and hurriedly snapped the compass shut. “We’re going the right way.”

“Good to check early. If I find out we ended up 20 miles the wrong way and we have to go the whole way back…” Bucky chuckled, bumping his shoulder against Steve’s.

“You’ll never let me forget the one time I got us lost, will you?” Steve groaned, but his mood was clearly lightening.

“The one time? Try every time,” Bucky replied. “It’s a miracle you managed to find us here.”

“I…I might’ve had some help,” Steve admitted.

Steve filled Bucky in on some of the gaps as they delicately danced around the elephant in the room between them. There was something brewing, but Bucky was not quite sure what it was. It was hard for him to stay focused and so he was glad when other soldiers joined them in the front, to meet their savior. They were eager to talk to Steve, trade information and stories, and Steve paid attention to each man, truly focused on them. Bucky listened and faded in and out of the conversations. Occasionally a canteen was held out to him and he drank water obediently, handing it back to Steve.

The sun was high in the sky when they finally marched into the camp, all together. It should have felt victorious, but Bucky could only taste ashes in his mouth. Everyone came out to cheer as they walked, happy to see their returning brothers. Steve looked at Bucky with a slight smile that Bucky could not return. Steve patted his shoulder, then focused forward again.

They came to Phillips, who Steve saluted. Bucky had to give it to Steve, he had some nerve. Steve did not let the general start talking.

“Some of these men need medical attention. I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Yes sir.”

A pretty dame approached Steve, which Bucky watched out of the corner of his eye. He had no claim to Steve, especially not now.

“You’re late,” Peggy, Bucky would later learn, said.

Steve pulled some smashed piece of tech out of a pocket. “Couldn’t call my ride.”

“Hey!” Bucky cried, wincing a little at the hoarseness in his throat. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

Everyone started cheering, but Steve’s eyes sought out Bucky’s first. Bucky gave him a trademark smirk, wanting to reassure his best friend. Steve had done so much good and he deserved all of this. As Steve turned away, Bucky’s smile fell as he took in the men who remained, how few still remained. They rushed forward to congratulate Steve and celebrate all the good things they had done. Bucky let himself be pushed aside, trying to sort out what he was feeling as he lost sight of Steve.

He knew he should go find a medic, but the thought of another doctor touching him made his skin crawl and his stomach flip painfully. However, he had his men to take care of, so he steeled himself and started helping the injured get to the medics. He avoided meeting the eyes of the medics, though he felt some of them evaluating him all the same. He kept moving, knowing that if he stood still, he would have to think and right now, that was dangerous.

One of the medics grabbed him by the arm, making Bucky start. The medic seemed unfazed, shoving a roll of bandages into his hand. “Barnes, can you follow me and lend a hand?”

“’Course,” Bucky replied as he followed the medic, Calen. They had run into each other at a different camp. They had played cards. He had an easy smile and a tendency to saucy jokes.

Calen was chatty and so Bucky could just follow him, handing him bandages or holding things or holding patients still. He just had to make the occasional sound and Calen would continue on talking. Bucky knew it was a two-fold distraction mechanism—distract the patient and himself from what they were looking at. Bucky was not paying attention to what was going on. He could not shake this feeling of ‘not right’ still. He was not sure how long he kept following Calen, kept going through the motions, before Calen stopped at an empty bed. Bucky looked up at Calen questioningly, but then went still when he saw Steve standing with Calen, looking rather disapproving. Had he not heard the two of them talking?

Bucky swayed a little on his feet, nearly dropping the medkit he was carrying. Steve was at his side in the blink of an eye, an arm going around Bucky’s waist as he took the kit with his other hand. Calen took the kit as Steve helped Bucky to the cot.

“I was wondering where you got off to,” Steve said as he settled Bucky down. “The order was to get checked out by medical, not to help medical, Buck.”

Bucky grabbed onto Steve reflexively as Steve started to pull back. Steve stilled, looking down at him. It took Bucky a few moments to get the words out. “I don’t want to see a medic.”

“You’ve got to have someone look at you, Bucky,” Steve said gently. “Who knows what they were doing to you?”

“I don’t…” Bucky broke off and looked away. His grip was tight on Steve’s jacket even as he shook. “I don’t…”

“I’ll be quick,” Calen said, stepping forward. “You know me, I don’t take my time, unless you’re a pretty lass and you’re not that.”

Bucky looked at Calen, unable to quell the nauseous feeling in his chest. He turned his gaze back to Steve. Steve cupped the side of Bucky’s face for a moment before putting that hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be right here, Buck.”

Bucky searched for something in Steve’s face and finally gave a little nod. Steve squeezed him gently and then took a few steps back to let Calen come over. Calen, to his credit, was as quick and efficient as he could be while being completely and utterly thorough. Calen seemed puzzled by a few things, but nothing he stated. He told Bucky to get some rest and gave him some antibiotics.

Bucky got cleaned up, which helped greatly in making him feel more human, even if it was just with tepid water and a bar of soap. Steve dragged Bucky to the mess afterwards, filling up both their trays, and then leading him to a table with some of the other soldiers from the Hydra base. That night, in the mess, it was announced that the POWs would get some time to recover—they would be sent back to London for a bit.

When the men at the table started talking about the first thing they wanted to do in London, Bucky realized with a start that he was a POW. He looked up at Steve for a moment, but Steve was already looking at him. They exchanged a look, but then Frenchie started singing and they had to put a stop to that.

Steve got called away after dinner, which seemed to unsettle him a little bit. He squeezed Bucky’s shoulder again, as if he did not know what to say, but before either of them could say anything more, he was off. Bucky followed Frenchie and the others as they left the mess. Some of them went to start playing cards or drinking, but all Bucky could think about was finding a bed. Dugan, who had been put in charge of directing people, pointed Bucky to a two person tent. The other occupant was out—Bucky hoped he was not too loud when he came in later.

Bucky was asleep before his head touched the pillow, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. He jerked away a few hours later, shivering from the cold. He had not even managed to get under the blankets before he had passed out.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Steve said softly, clearly in the process of getting into the tent. “I thought I was being quiet.”

“No, you were,” Bucky said. He cleared his throat, sitting up and working on untangling the blankets. “I got cold. You’re…you’re sleeping here?”

“Yeah. So long that’s okay?” Steve sounded concerned, studying Bucky’s face in the dim light.

“’Course it is,” Bucky replied, still shivering. He curled up as much as he could, trying to get warm.

“Here,” Steve said after a moment, getting up and putting his blanket over Bucky.

“But you—”

“No, I don’t get cold really anymore. Whatever they injected me with makes me run hot.” Steve hesitated for a moment, then put one of his hands on Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky could not stop himself from pressing into that touch. Steve was so warm and he was so cold.

“God, you’re freezing,” Steve said. He hesitated again (why was he hesitating? Usually the kid just said whatever he was thinking all the time, without a thought) and then added, “Move over.”

“What?” Bucky propped himself up on an elbow, looking up at Steve. When Steve simply gave him a ‘come on’ look, he sighed and obediently slid over on the cot as much as he could. Steve immediately settled down next to Bucky. “What are you doing?”

“You used to do this all the time when I was cold. I’m just paying you back,” Steve replied. Was he blushing? The dim light made it hard to tell. “Come on, Buck. You’re freezing and I’m practically a furnace now.”

Bucky grumbled for a few moments, realizing that Steve was right. This was no different than any of the countless times they had done it before, except that the roles were reversed now. And, Bucky was far more aware of his less than friendly feelings for Steve. Faced with death, you tended to realize things, even if they were uncomfortable and worrisome. Moreover, there was still whatever was sitting between the two of them that had not been said yet, some great space between them.

Bucky gave in. He could already feel the heat radiating off of Steve and he had been cold for so long now. It took them a few minutes to situate how to do this now, since Steve had grown, but they got it sorted out, Steve pressed against Bucky’s back, an arm thrown over his waist. Bucky took a deep breath, finally starting to warm up. He closed his eyes, matching his breathing to Steve’s. There was a little pang in his chest as he oddly felt like he was home again.

“Hey Buck…” Steve’s voice was quiet.

“Yeah?”

“I’m just…I’m glad I found you.”

Bucky smiled despite himself. “I’m glad you did too, punk. I don’t think I said it, but thanks.”

“I’m with you, to the end of the line,” Steve replied, his breath hot against the back of Bucky’s neck. “Always.”

There were still things that needed to be said, but Bucky felt the knot in his chest lessen just a little bit. They would be okay, somehow. Bucky just needed to push down his feelings for Steve and get his head on straight.

:-:

London was supposed to be a break, so everyone who had been taken by Hydra could recover. Bucky did not find it restful. There was too much empty space and too little to do and Steve was off with the important people most of the time. Bucky had started having nightmares every night, waking up either frozen or screaming. Steve was there when he did, petting his hair and trying to comfort him, using all the same gestures that Bucky had done when Steve had been sick. Bucky felt broken and defective. He had no idea why Steve was still hanging around him—Bucky could not protect him, he did not even know where to start, but he had promised Sarah and he would not fail her now.

Steve came to Bucky, all excited about taking down Hydra bases and wanting to put together a team. Bucky recommended he buy the soldiers he was thinking about a beer and see if they were in. Steve did that while Bucky sat at the bar, tossing back shots of liquor. The alcohol did not seem to affect him in the right way anymore.

Steve came over, looking good in that uniform. Bucky raised an eyebrow, trying to look suave and normal. “See? I told you. They’re all idiots.”

Steve sat down next to Bucky while Bucky tossed back another shot. Steve did not look at him exactly as he asked, “How about you? You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?”

Bucky looked straight ahead for a moment, considering the question. He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned to Steve. “Hell no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight—I’m following him.”

Bucky finally met Steve’s gaze, struck with the usual mixture of lovesick and adoration that he felt when looking at him. Steve was giving him a heavy look and again, things felt heavy between the two of them, but neither one was ready to start. Bucky decided to lighten the mood. “But you’re keeping the outfit, right?”

Steve smirked at Bucky and Bucky could not hold back a chuckle. “You know what? It’s kind of growing on me.”

They sat at the bar in comfortable silence for a little bit longer before the singing died down and Peggy appeared, looking gorgeous in a red dress. Bucky and Steve immediately got to their feet as she approached.

“Captain,” Peggy said.

“Agent Carter,” Steve replied.

“Ma’am,” Bucky said, mostly just to feel involved. Jealousy reared up as he saw the way Peggy looked at Steve and how Steve looked at her.

“Howard has some equipment for you to try,” Peggy said, turning to Steve entirely. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds good,” Steve answered.

The silence dragged on as Bucky stood there awkwardly. Peggy even glanced at him. Bucky knew he should try and help Steve, wingman for him, but the words were dying in his chest. Bucky glanced at Steve, then half turned away.

“I see your top squad is prepping for duty,” Peggy said, breaking the awkwardness as best she could.

“You don’t like music?” Steve asked and Bucky wanted to hit him. That was the worst pickup line he had ever heard.

“I do actually,” Peggy said. “I might even, when this is all over, go dancing.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky said, finally trying to wingman for Steve. It would break his heart to watch this, but she seemed the good sort for Steve.

“The right partner,” Peggy said, eyes fixed on Steve. As she turned to go, she added, “0800, Captain.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there,” Steve said, looking down at his feet. 

“I’m invisible,” Bucky said, turning to Steve as she left. “I’m turning into you. It’s like a horrible dream.”

“Don’t take it so hard. Maybe she’s got a friend,” Steve replied, patting Bucky’s shoulder.

They turned back to the bar, though Bucky was brooding now. He drank a little bit more before deciding to call it a night. He was surprised when Steve decided to leave with him instead of chatting up the future squad. It was warm outside, despite the late hour. Bucky still shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to quell the jealousy.

“She’s pretty. How’d you two meet?”

“Agent Peggy Carter is part of the SSR. We met during the Project Rebirth training,” Steve said stiffly. “She is brilliant and very skilled at her job.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t,” Bucky replied, feeling like he was picking a fight. He could not stop himself. “But she’s also really pretty. You should go dancing with her.”

“You think I should?” Steve stopped to turn and look at Bucky. Bucky stopped, looking up at him, not liking the odd turn.

“Of course. Been trying to find a dame for you for years. Now we found one,” Bucky said, wishing he could shut his mouth. “Well, I guess you found her. I didn’t find anything. I’m just invisible now.”

“Buck—”

“Come on, it’s cold, let’s go,” Bucky said, starting back down the street.

Bucky did not make it far, because Steve grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a nearby alley. It was very narrow, so much so that they had to be pressed chest to chest. Steve pushed Bucky against the alley wall, breathing heavy. Bucky realized he was also, unsure of the change in tension.

“What, Steve?”

“I don’t…I didn’t go…I went to find you,” Steve managed out, eyes darting away then back to Bucky’s. His hands tightened on Bucky’s arms. “I went to find you. I couldn’t…it’s you.”

“What’s me?” Bucky did not know what to do. Was Steve saying what he thought he was saying? He could not be. Steve had literally been flirting with a brilliant, beautiful dame not even an hour ago.

“I went to find you,” Steve repeated, as if that explained everything. He leaned in hesitantly, but then stopped. “Don’t you…Buck…”

Bucky looked at Steve, really and truly. He did not hesitant, leaning in and kissing Steve firmly. He figured, worst case, he could blame it on the alcohol. When Steve did not move or respond, he pulled back immediately. The words started to build on his lips, but then Steve was kissing him.

One of Steve’s hands slid up to cup Bucky’s jaw, helping angle his head better while Bucky’s hands sought out Steve’s hips. He jerked Steve flush against him, liking the little gasp that escaped Steve. He used that moment to take over, deepening the kiss. He was entirely wrapped up in Steve, in his taste and his smell and the press of their bodies together. He rocked his hips hesitantly forward and was rewarded with a low groan and Steve pressing back.

Abruptly, Steve broke off the kiss and just leaned his forehead against Bucky’s. “Let…let’s get somewhere…private.”

Bucky blinked, remembering exactly where they were and what they were doing. He was having trouble getting his breathing to slow down and pulling away from Steve right now seemed like a challenge. “Right. Let’s…let’s do that.”

Steve pressed his lips chastely to Bucky’s before pulling away. He stepped out of the alley first, straightening his uniform. He looked back at Bucky, eyes gentle. “I…I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Bucky could not believe that this was not a dream. This could not be real. But then Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and tugged him close as they restarted the walk back.

“Me too, Stevie,” Buck said finally, leaning into Steve’s touch. The feeling of not right was still there in the back of his mind, but he was able to push it aside, focusing instead on the man next to him.


	2. Sweet music playing in the dark, be still my foolish heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk is cheap and is confronting your feelings, but the boys figure it out for the most part, because that's what you do. Steve is menace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short(er) chapter this time around. I have a general idea where the story's going, but at the same time, I don't really. This chapter came to a logical resting point. Song recs: anything by Hozier, but especially "Almost (Sweet Music)."

Steve’s head was spinning. He had never thought he would get this far, but now he had kissed his best friend, the man he had been in love with since he was at least twelve, Bucky Barnes. This was not their first kiss—their first kiss had been the night before the school dance and both of them realized they did not know how to kiss. Bucky had managed to charm two girls their year into going with them to the dance (both of them probably thought they were on a date with Bucky and the other was with Steve, but it worked) and Steve had asked Bucky, while they were practicing dancing, what he would do if the girl wanted to kiss him. Bucky had then told Steve that he hadn’t ever kissed a girl. They both had then decided that they would kiss each other and just get that kiss out of the way. 

This kiss was far better than their first one, even though it had taken place in the middle of a fight that Steve was still confused about. Bucky had gotten better at it—must have been all that practice. Steve was a little jealous as he thought about that. He pulled Bucky a little closer, rubbing over his shoulder gently. 

Steve, being ‘Captain America,’ was treated to a proper flat to stay in while they were in London. He had made it clear that Bucky came with him and no one had argued with him. They stepped into the small space and there was a moment when Steve started to plan out what he was going to say to Bucky. But then, Bucky had grabbed the lapels of his jacket and tugged him close again, kissing him like this was the only chance he would get to do so.

Steve grabbed onto Bucky’s hips, pushing him back against the door. Bucky went willingly, wrapping one of his arms around Steve’s neck to keep him close. Bucky nipped Steve’s bottom lip then slipped his tongue into his mouth and Steve had never thought of kissing like that, but it felt good. He did not have much experience kissing. He was quickly realizing he would let Bucky do just about anything and that would be fine with him.

Steve pressed in closer, trying to find a proper measure between too far away and crushing Bucky. Bucky did not seem to care, groaning softly. He started working on the buttons of Steve’s jacket clumsily, unwilling to pull away. Steve helped shrug out of it quickly, not wanting to stop touching Bucky for too long. He was afraid he might wake up from this.

Then, Bucky cupped his face and pushed him back a little, panting. Steve looked over his face uncertainly. “Buck?”

“We…we should talk, first,” Bucky managed. His eyes kept darting down to Steve’s lips, unconsciously licking his own, and Steve really wanted to kiss him again. Talking did not seem nearly as important as kissing Bucky.

However, Bucky had a point. Steve sighed as he looked down. “You’re right. We…we should.”

“Don’t look so put out, punk,” Bucky said and Steve heard the amusement. He looked up and saw the smile. Bucky gave him a quick, light kiss.

“Shut up.”

They settled sitting on the threadbare green couch, an arms distance from each other. Steve had poured them both glasses of water (the water was mostly to help sober Bucky up, though he seemed relatively in control of his facilities). They did not talk for a few moments, sitting in a comfortable silence while they cooled down a little bit.

Bucky broke the silence first, one arm on the back of the couch, propping up his head. “So, you broke into a Hydra base to save me, because you like me.”

“I mean, yes, but it was more than just that,” Steve replied. “I don’t just ‘like’ you. I…I’ve been in love with you.”

“You broke into a Hydra base to save me, even though I’m betting you were told we were a lost cause, because you’re in love with me.”

“They didn’t say that—”

“Answer the damn question, Stevie.”

“Language!”

Bucky laughed. Steve had not heard him laugh like that since New York. He had been worried—Bucky had been looking like a shell of himself. He would not talk about what had happened in the base, and Steve could guess from the stories the others had told and the nightmares that woke Bucky every night, but something horrible had happened in that room. And yet, Bucky could still laugh. It had taken a bit of time, but Bucky was laughing like the time he had had to rescue Steve from the tree he had climbed in Central Park and got stuck in.

“Fine! Answer the darn question, punk!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say! The details don’t matter, what matters is you’re here now.” Steve crossed his arms, chuckling.

“Do you have no self-preservation? No sense of ‘don’t do the dangerous thing’?” Bucky shook his head in mock amusement, ruffling his own hair. “Jesus, Steve. You’re a danger to yourself.”

“I couldn’t leave my best guy waiting,” Steve replied, reaching out to take Bucky’s other hand.

Bucky’s eyes were soft. “You’re a damn romantic. Where’s that been all these years?”

“You just weren’t listening. And watch your mouth.”

“Make me.”

“Maybe I will,” Steve replied with a smirk. The look on Bucky’s face made Steve blush as he guessed what Bucky was thinking about. Steve rubbed at his neck, glancing away for a moment. “You’re horrible.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Bucky said cockily.

“Anyways,” Steve said, trying to keep the conversation moving forward. “Yeah. I did that.”

“And you let them inject you with…with whatever they did to make you look like this,” Bucky said softly, sobered up. “You can’t keep doing stupid things, Steve. Your life matters, you know.”

“So does yours,” Steve said, threading their fingers together. He looked down at their hands for a long moment. “You like me too? What about all those girls?”

Bucky shrugged. “There’s a reason they didn’t stick. They weren’t you.”

Steve tried not to utterly melt. Bucky was too sweet. “Buck…”

“What about Agent Carter?” Bucky met Steve’s gaze, waiting.

Steve chuckled, which was clearly not the response Bucky was expecting. “Agent Carter sort of…pieced it together.”

“Pieced what together? She was flirting with you.”

Steve chuckled as he shook his head. It had taken Peggy and Howard Stark five minutes to figure out that Steve had it bad for Bucky in the plane. The other day, they had been ‘discussing’ strategy for picking Steve’s elite troop and both of them had asked him if he was bringing Bucky, with all the suggestiveness the two of them could muster. When Steve had gaped at them, Peggy had simply laughed and said that Steve was a horrible actor. “Believe me, Buck, she’s not an issue here. I really think you’ll like her.”

Bucky did not seem completely convinced, but he took Steve’s hand in both of his, tracing over the tendons lightly. “It’s weird, looking at you now. I still see that little kid from Brooklyn, but now you’re…big and different.”

“I’m still Steve.”

“I know,” Bucky said, lifting Steve’s hand and kissing his palm. Steve felt heat pool in his stomach as he forgot momentarily how to breathe. He was not sure why this was so surprising—Bucky had always been tactile growing up. Why would that change now? Bucky smirked, seemingly reading Steve’s mind. “Am I distracting you, Stevie?”

“You’re the one who said we needed to talk. I was perfectly fine back by the door.”

“Probably because you weren’t up against the door.”

“I can go be against the door.”

Bucky laughed again and Steve melted again. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Bucky kissed Steve’s knuckles next. “So…we’re doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being…together. As…as us,” Bucky said hesitantly. He looked at Steve again and Steve could see the apprehension.

“You want this too, right?”

“I’ve always wanted it,” Bucky said softly, eyes downcast. He continued to trace over Steve’s hand idly.

It hit Steve like a train. Bucky was scared. Bucky, who was never afraid of anything, who joined any fight Steve was part of, who never stayed quiet when there were words that should be said, was scared. He was afraid that Steve was going to reject him, even after all that kissing. Steve did not know how to tell Bucky that there was nothing in the world that would make him turn away from Bucky. Steve did not know how to tell Bucky that he was everything. He had to figure out how to say all of that, but they had time.

Steve cupped Bucky’s face in his free hand and tilted his face up. Bucky was quiet, eyes searching out something on Steve’s face. Steve slid closer with a little smile. “I’ve wanted it too, Buck. So…I guess we’re doing this. Together.”

“Til the end of the line,” Bucky replied.

Steve leaned in and kissed him again, deciding that anymore talking could wait. Bucky did not seem to disagree, pressing closer to Steve immediately.

They did not do much more than kiss, since it was late and Steve had to be at headquarters early. However, Steve dragged their beds together, surprising Bucky when he exited the washroom. Steve sat innocently on the beds, jotting something down in his notebook (actually, it was a doodle of Bucky’s hands). Bucky cocked his head to the side as he took in the scene and looked over Steve.

“You’re not drunk, are you?” Steve asked, not looking up.

“What?” Bucky sounded confused. The bed dipped down as Bucky just accepted this as his new normal. Confusing Bucky tended to work in his favor. Steve had been doing it since they were kids—asking Bucky a complex science or mechanical question when he was lecturing Steve worked about half the time.

“Drunk. You’re not drunk. You drank almost an entire bottle of whiskey tonight, but you’re not drunk.”

Bucky yawned and leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder, looking at what he was working on. “I didn’t drink that much.”

“Buck…”

“What?” Bucky met Steve’s sidelong glance. He simply straightened up and pecked Steve’s cheek before lying down. “I don’t know what you’re getting at. C’mon. Bed.”

Steve jotted down ‘unable to get drunk’ under ‘nightmares’ and ‘facial bruises’ in the little list he had began a few days earlier. He looked over it for a moment more and then closed the notebook, tossing it out of the way before getting the light. He let Bucky roll over and hold him close, as if Steve had not grown significantly and made this a little awkward, because it did not feel awkward. It felt safe and like home.

“Night, Buck.”

“Night, Steve.”

:-:

Steve got up before Bucky, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was rare that Bucky slept peacefully now, though he had not had bad nightmares the previous night. Steve had to sit down on the bed to put his boots on, but tried to do it as quietly and quickly as possible. He thought he had succeeded, but then he heard movement from behind him.

“Stevie…” Bucky’s voice was rough with sleep.

Steve turned to look at him. Bucky had his eyes barely open, sprawled on his back with the covers pooled at his waist. The silver of his dog tags caught the sunlight on his bare chest. Steve stared, wishing he had the time to draw this or had a camera or something. He wanted to capture this image, of sleepy Bucky with messy hair looking at him like he was something special, forever. It took Bucky repeating his question three times before Steve recognized what he was saying.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no, you should get some more sleep,” Steve answered. He leaned over and kissed Bucky, a slow, languid kiss that he was loath to break off. “But…you should join later. We’re going to be making plans for the Hydra bases and I’d like your insight.”

“I don’t think anyone else wants my insight, doll,” Bucky said, cupping the back of Steve’s neck. He hummed softly as he tugged Steve back down for a longer kiss, slipping his tongue into his mouth and making Steve wonder if going to meet Peggy was really worth it.

“I want it,” Steve finally managed as he broke off the kiss and leaned their foreheads together. He took a few steadying breaths while Bucky just ran his hand up into his hair. “I’ll tell someone to send you a car in an hour?”

“Well, if Captain America wants me somewhere, I guess I have to be there,” Bucky said with the hints of a smile on his lips. He urged Steve back in for another kiss, clearly enjoying the effect he had on Steve.

Steve finally managed to get to his feet before Bucky had entirely unbuttoned his jacket. “You’re a menace.”

Bucky propped himself up on his elbows, smirking. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Steve’s mind was entirely on the possibilities of what could have happened if he had not had to go to the base in London and so he did not notice any of the signs Lorraine was giving him when he asked her if she knew where Stark was. He did notice when she got into his space and put her hands on his chest. He took her hands and tried to push her away. What was she even talking about?

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I—”

“I just want to thank you,” Lorraine said. She was quick and Steve did not want to hurt her, so she ended up kissing him. He tried to push her away quickly, but he heard an unhappy sound from behind him. They pulled apart to see Peggy standing there, looking annoyed.

“Captain Rogers, if you’re quite done there,” Peggy said sharply.

Steve practically jumped at the chance to get away from Lorraine. He ran after her, needing to explain. “Agent Carter, wait.”

“Looks like finding a partner wasn’t that hard after all,” Peggy said, not looking at him. “Even after all that time.”

“Peggy, that’s not what you thought it was.”

“I don’t think anything, Captain, not one thing. You’ve always wanted to be a soldier and now you are, just like all the rest.”

“You don’t—”

Peggy stopped at a large, guarded door. She fixed him with a sharp look. “I thought you were more than that, Captain.”

“It was—”

“Save it.”

Steve talked a little to Howard once he got into the lab, hoping that he would shed some light on the situation. Howard ended up just saying that women were complicated. He patted Steve on the shoulder and then showed him the shields. Steve was immediately drawn to the vibranium one, liking the weight of it. 

“You quite finished, Mr. Stark?” Peggy walked in, Bucky trailing behind her and looking rather lost. “I’m sure the Captain has some unfinished business.”

Steve held up the shield with a smile. “What do you think?”

Peggy stared for a moment, then picked up a gun, and fired four times at him. The shield protected Steve quite well. She gave a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, I think it works.”

She marched up to Steve, giving him an intense look, before leaving. Steve and Howard watched after her, dumbstruck. Bucky walked over with a mild expression.

“So, what did you do to piss her off?”

Steve and Howard turned to look at Bucky. Howard recovered first, extending a hand. “Sergeant Barnes, I presume? I’m Howard Stark.”

Bucky shook his hand. “Good to meet you. You’re the one who flew the plane, right?”

“That I am,” Howard said with a broad smile.

“You’re going to fit him out with some actual armor, right?” Bucky inclined his head to Steve, going to look at the technology on the table. “Otherwise, I might have to punch you for letting the idiot take on a bunch of Nazis on his own.”

Howard laughed as Steve shot Bucky an annoyed look. “Don’t worry, Sergeant Barnes, I aim to please.”

“I had some ideas about the outfit.” Steve handed Howard some papers. He went over to Bucky, who was examining a rifle. “Look, there’s…there’s a bit of a misunderstanding.”

Bucky turned the rifle over in his hands. “And that’s why the brilliant Agent Carter shot you?”

Steve blinked, taking in Bucky’s expression. “You already know?”

“That some dame kissed you? It’s the talk of the base, Stevie,” Bucky said. He met Steve’s eyes with a smirk. “Captain America’s quite the menace it seems.”

“You…you’re not…” Steve faltered. He glanced nervously at Howard, who was watching Bucky handle the gun carefully.

“Mr. Stark,” Bucky said as he put the rifle down.

Howard glanced at Steve for a moment before answering. “Yes?”

“I was at your Expo and you showed off a flying car?” Bucky waited until Howard gave a little nod. “How’d you do that?”

“Do what? Have an expo?”

“No. Make the car fly.”

Howard lit up. “Give me a minute! I’ve got those blueprints in my office.”

As Howard rushed off, Steve slid closer to Bucky, putting a hand on the table. Bucky turned to Steve, so they were almost pressed together, face to face, and placed his hand lightly on top of Steve’s.

“I’m not mad, doll. I know where you’re sleeping,” Bucky said softly with a smirk.

“Oh.” Steve had expected jealousy, anger, and to have to grovel. Instead, Bucky looked utterly amused with the entire situation.

“I mean, I’d prefer it if you didn’t go around kissing other people,” Bucky said, tilting his head to the side. “But I feel like you’ve already gotten a lecture from Agent Carter—you were right, I like her.”

“Buck—”

“Here, I’ve got—” Howard broke off, taking in Steve and Bucky. 

Bucky pulled away fluidly, as if nothing was going on, but Steve could see the faint blush on his cheeks. “You said it was a prototype and that was why it failed?”

Howard nodded, spreading the papers out. As Bucky went over to look, Howard caught Steve’s eye and winked with a smile. Steve rubbed the back of his neck, trying to cool off. Bucky was going to be the death of him, but Steve was going to enjoy every moment of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't break Peggy's heart, because she is awesome and amazing. So, instead, she is the smartest one around.


End file.
